


give in, give out

by fimbulvetr



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Fuckbuddies, Happy Ending, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:46:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fimbulvetr/pseuds/fimbulvetr
Summary: So, they sleep together sometimes. Sex friends are a normal adult thing that happens between consenting partners, or so Tasuku's been told. Except Azuma is not a normal adult. (Tasuku said something like this to Tsumugi, who just giggled at him. That wasn't helpful.)





	1. the moment i said it

**Author's Note:**

> mild spoilers for act 8 chapters 4-5, please read/listen to them and cry with me. this is set sometime after the gaia event!
> 
> thank you so so much to carp for the beta and vee for letting me harrass you!!

Sometimes Tasuku can't decide if he knows a lot about Azuma or if he knows nothing at all. That night in the old Yukishiro house, Tasuku had held him in his arms as Azuma wept until he lost strength. Tasuku felt like he’d seen everything, understood everything. Like he’d witnessed something no one else had, the depths of the older man's loneliness and grief beneath that serene veneer.

Since then, Tasuku has held Azuma in _other_ ways as well. They've gone on long drives alone, drank together at Azuma’s choice of bars, and Azuma's never asked Tasuku for anything that he wasn't willing to provide. 'Friends with benefits' sounds wrong but putting another, more serious label on it doesn’t work any better.

So, they sleep together sometimes. Sex friends are a normal adult thing that happens between consenting partners, or so Tasuku's been told. Except Azuma is not a normal adult. (Tasuku said something like this to Tsumugi, who just giggled at him. That wasn't helpful.)

Azuma still doesn't like to sleep alone, so Tasuku always stays the night. In the morning he'll nudge him awake with, "Azuma-san, I'm going for my jog," and Azuma will mumble something sleepily, like, "Have fun," or in rarer cases, "Thank you," and slip back into sleep.

They never talk about it, not even around the others. Tsumugi knows, but Tsumugi knows everything, and Tasuku wouldn't change that for the world. Still, they never talk about it.

Tasuku wonders if this is a problem, though more often than not, it’s a hard subject to broach. Without a script to refer to, Tasuku can’t find the words, and he doesn't even really know what the subject _is_. So he leaves it, a bookmark for another time. There's no tension because Azuma doesn't let there be, and when he starts to gradually draw away, it all feels natural.

They’re lying together in Azuma’s room, on Azuma’s bed, when Tasuku finally says the thing he should have said weeks ago: "I think we should stop this.”

"Okay. If that's what you think," Azuma agrees. The warmth of his body against Tasuku’s side is more than a little distracting, and the absence of movement somehow makes it more obvious.

"Azuma-san, I want to know what _you_ think."

"I think... If this is what's good for you, then that's great." Azuma shifts onto his side, and places his hand on Tasuku’s arm, making sure their eyes meet before he continues, “But I think you should tell Tsumugi how you feel."

Tasuku's flummoxed. It's like a punch to the gut.

"I usually do," he replies, carefully. Azuma is frowning now, and Tasuku doesn’t know what to do other than to frown back.

Azuma's hand slips away as he turns his head, laughing softly. It’s frustratingly hollow. Tasuku knows he’s a better actor than that, which just means he’s not trying, or maybe that he doesn’t care, and if _that_ doesn't put a knot in his stomach.

“That’s good. Forget I said anything. Actually, I just remembered, I’ve got a bottle of—"

“Don’t do that.” Tasuku cuts him off tersely, sitting up. "You’re avoiding the subject."

"… Ahaha. I can’t win against you, Tasuku."

"So…"

"You have feelings for him," Azuma says, gently, patiently. It’s a statement, not a question, and Tasuku opens his mouth to deny it, but the words don’t quite form. Frustrated, he grabs for his shirt and starts to tug it over his head.

"This isn’t about Tsumugi. It’s between the two of us."

"You don’t want there to be a two of us, though, and that’s all right. But if you want that with somebody else, you should tell them."

"...And you think that person is..." He trails off, the conclusion obvious, and sighs. "Right."

How he feels about Tsumugi is a different story—one with so many endings, beginnings, twists and turns that even now, Tasuku can _just_ scratch the surface of comprehending it. The story is incomplete. And that's the scariest part. 

He opens his mouth to speak again, maybe start to explain what had happened those two weeks at university, a lifetime ago. But then comes a knock at the door.

"Yukishiro, is the room occupied?"

—It’s Guy. They’ve never outright stated their arrangement to the others, but it’s hard enough to hide anything from _anyone_ in a dorm living situation, much less from Azuma’s roommate.

“It’s okay to come in!” Azuma calls. Tasuku swears he’d only looked away for a second, but somehow the other man is fully clothed. And Tasuku doesn’t have pants on.

“I don’t have pants on,” he hisses.

“That’s all right, we’ve all seen each other’s legs,” Azuma reassures him without missing a beat, which makes it all the more _un_ reassuring, and Tasuku doesn’t have time for a retort.

The door opens and the other man steps in.

“Uh,” says Tasuku, halfway down the ladder of the bunk.

“Good morning,” says Guy, impassive.

“Guy-san. I was just … leaving.”

Guy nods, gesturing to the coffee table. Tasuku’s gaze lands on his pants, which had in turn, at some point, landed on the coffee table. He hastily jumps down to grab them. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened, though Tasuku’s usually _slightly_ more clothed, and Azuma more amused.

He excuses himself again after he’s tugged on his pants, and makes his way out the door. He gets almost all the way to the baths without thinking about Azuma’s silence, his eerie calm, and spends a long, cold shower trying to push back the unease.


	2. don't lose your head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tasuku works. Everybody knows what happened. Tsumugi has thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this introduces bantsum, sorry if that's not your bag
> 
> thank you to dita, vee, krsh, and everyone in mankai-eccentrics for dealing with my rubbish!

Tasuku comes in from his morning run just as the school kids are filing out of the dorm. It’s a bit later than he usually arrives, but he’d covered more distance than usual. It’s typically easier to sort out his thoughts while exercising, and he’d had no shortage of thoughts this morning.

Muku gives a quick “Good morning!” while he heads out the door, and Tasuku nods as he passes, just about walking into the next person. Yuki, apparently not in a hurry, is _Looking_ at him.

There are a few different types of _Looks_ that Yuki has in his repertoire. The most common one as far as Tasuku is concerned is the ‘Did your chest get bigger again? I’ve got pins and I’m not afraid to use them’ Look. He gets that one a lot, so it’s the easiest to recognise.

The stare being aimed at him right now isn’t that, so it’s probably the ‘Adults are failing at basic communication again, didn’t I already tell you about alcohol?’ one.

“Did you say something stupid to Azu-nee?” he asks, voice slightly more accusatory than normal. “We were sheet-masking last night and he seemed distracted. I tried asking him about it, but he just started teasing Azami.”

“Why do you assume _I_ said something?”

“Intuition.” The teenager crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin. It’s unnecessarily defiant.

“—I didn’t say anything stupid,” Tasuku says, still sidestepping yes or no.

Yuki’s dubious gaze is unwavering, but Tasuku isn’t in the mood to be intimidated by a high school first year today, however formidable. And it’s true, isn’t it? He hadn’t said anything _stupid_ , exactly. Right?

After a few seconds, Yuki makes a noise as if to say ‘I don’t buy it, but fine,’ and steps back.

“Okay. Keep it that way.”

“You’re going be late for school,” Tasuku grunts, to which the teen rolls his eyes. Nevertheless, he finally makes his exit, not bothering with a wave or a goodbye. That’s typical, though, and Tasuku would probably be more disturbed if he had.

He sighs as the door closes. _Had_ he said something stupid? Yuki’s intuition has been right in the past, but Tasuku knows Azuma better by now, surely.

Right. It wasn’t stupid. He’d just given voice to what they’d both left as silence for weeks, and anything else still unresolved would unravel with time. They’ll deal with that when it happens, because they’re adults, and that’s how adults solve problems.

 

He’s got a few days ahead of him, packed with work all across town.

Tasuku spends the first morning at a workshop held for aspiring high school actors, which goes on through the afternoon. The evening gig keeps him busy as well. It’s last minute—he’s filling in a minor role in a small production as a favour to the director. But he gives it his all anyway because acting is full of unexpected setbacks.

By the time he gets back to his room, it’s late. Tsumugi’s sitting in his bunk already. They exchange greetings, both rather distractedly; Tsumugi’s busy smiling at something on his phone, and Tasuku, mind filled with the day’s events and nothing else, he just wants to get to sleep. He’s out the second his head hits the pillow.

Then it's onto the next day, the next gig. He's been asked to consult on a trial performance by a senpai from college, to give a troupe of up-and-comers a talk about character-work and getting into the role.

After that’s over, the senpai treats him to a round of drinks at a local izakaya, which could easily stretch into the deep night if not for Tasuku’s newly developed skills in de-escalating raucous situations before they happen. Thanks in no small part to having to wrangle the drunk adult members of Mankai Company on far too many occasions.

All’s well that ends well. It’s a good couple of days, all in all, and he hardly thinks about anything other than acting the entire time.

 

Tasuku gets home just after the others would have had dinner. He showers quickly, then makes it upstairs to his and Tsumugi's room with every intent to relax into a good book about interpreting the works of 18th Century playwrights before falling straight to sleep again.

That intent goes straight out the door, ironically, as he opens the door to their room. What he finds is the sight of his roommate sitting astride one Settsu Banri, leader of the Autumn Troupe, and … involved with the leader of the Winter Troupe, apparently.

“—Taachan!” says Tsumugi, surprised.

“Wait, ’Taachan’?” parrots Settsu, confused.

“Settsu, Tsumugi,” says Tasuku, addressing them both in turn, suddenly too tired to care about the details.

Tsumugi doesn’t seem in a hurry to move from his position, despite the awkwardness. He looks pensive, in fact. Tasuku utters a silent prayer of thanks to anyone who’s listening for the fact that the two are both fully clothed.

"I actually did want to talk to you," Tsumugi says like they're having a normal conversation where he's not sitting on a guy.

“Tsumugi-san?” Settsu hisses. “Maybe _now’s_ not the—”

“What did you want to talk about?” Tasuku cuts in over Settsu. He feels a little bad because it's a valid protest, but they both know (Tasuku does, at least) how Tsumugi gets when he has an idea, and at least this way it's direct.

“Sorry, Banri-kun, it’ll just take a second.” Tsumugi smiles in a way a layman would think is reassuring, but Tasuku knows better. It’s conspiratorial. Tsumugi tucks a strand of the younger man’s hair behind his ear fondly, before turning back to look at Tasuku. “—I wanted to talk about how things are going with you-know-who?”

First Yuki, now Tsumugi too? It’s been less than _two days_ , and it’s not like Guy or Azuma to gossip.

“You want to talk about _this_ while you’re…” Tasuku gestures.

Settsu looks like he’s about to say something, probably in agreement, something about his current predicament, but Tsumugi swings his leg over so he’s just sitting in the other man’s lap, better facing Tasuku. That stops whatever Settsu was about to say. Tsumugi never did anything of the sort back when—

Well, that’s not important right now.

“I’m just worried about you,” Tsumugi says, painfully earnest. Still conspiratorial, somehow, but earnest. “How are you dealing with it?”

Tasuku stares at him. He can only assume that Settsu already knows, given Tsumu’s lack of discretion.

“I told him we should stop, and he agreed. I’m dealing with it fine.”

“Oh, that’s what it is! You broke up?” Tsumugi’s doe-eyed look betrays nothing, but there’s something else there. Tasuku just doesn’t know what.

“We weren’t dating in the first place,” he says, tiredly. It's the truth. There was nothing to break up. They were just fooling around. No strings. No feelings. That's how it was meant to be. That's what they agreed upon in the first place.

“We’re talkin’ about Azuma-san, right?” Settsu interjects. “You were going out?”  So it’s clear Settsu has no idea what’s going on, and now neither does Tasuku.

“No, we weren’t. —Tsumugi, can we talk about this later?”

Tsumugi frowns thoughtfully, swivelling again so he’s fully facing Tasuku now, his back leaning against Settsu's chest.

“I think this is a good time, actually. Tasuku, why don’t you take a seat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's definitely gonna be three chapters. sorry! it'll come out faster than this one did.
> 
> i really like it when banri suffers.


	3. have you got it in you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsumugi and Tasuku talk beetles and love. Tasuku goes for a drive, then makes a decision. Azuma smells amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to krsh for holding my hand and their gentle critiques, to vee for being my steppy tsumugi consultant, to dita for her general radiance and bantsum enthusiasm, and a big big thanks to rachel for the beta and support!
> 
> i've used the wonderful [ian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/associate/pseuds/associate)'s amazing [A3! LIME Work Skin](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489243) here, so all credit for that goes to them.

****Tasuku doesn’t know how he got into this situation.

—That’s a lie. He does, and it’s his own fault. Settsu’s basically been refashioned into a chair—trapped beneath Tsumugi’s light weight. Tasuku is in a similar predicament, though thankfully no one’s taken it upon themselves to sit on _him_ , but the night is young and anything could happen.

As it is, he’s sitting on the tatami with Tsumugi and Settsu on _his couch_ , Tsumugi regarding him with a sense of authority that says ‘I am the teacher and you are my student’. Most people don't get to see this side of sweet, mild-mannered Tsumugi-san. But Tasuku's been with him through the highs and lows, and he's seen how scary a righteous Tsumugi can be.

He can only wonder if this is new to Settsu.

“As your leader … Well, as yours and Azuma-san’s friend first and foremost, I think we should talk about your intentions towards him.”

“I don’t have any intentions. We stopped… whatever we were doing.” He sighs. ”Do you really want to talk about this while Settsu’s here?”

“Banri-kun doesn’t mind. I think it could be a learning experience.”

“Oi, hey, Banri-kun _does_ mind if this is about Tasuku-san’s sex life. —No offence, Tasuku-san.”

“None taken.”

Tsumugi wriggles a bit on the spot. Tasuku feels a twinge of … he wouldn’t call it _jealousy_ , there’s really nothing to envy in the situation, but ... _discomfort_ at witnessing this. It's an awkward situation for everyone.

“It’s not about Tasuku’s sex life, I don’t… think.” Tsumugi tilts his head. “Right?”

“It’s not,” he confirms.

“Then … what’s the problem with Banri-kun being here?”

And just like that, Tsumugi has a point.

Tasuku hesitates, glancing at the third man in the room the best he can from their unique positions. If Settsu and Tsumugi are dating now, which is how it appears, the discussion they’re about to have may not be something Settsu wants to hear. _Tasuku_ doesn’t even want to talk about it, but Tsumugi’s being proactive about bringing things to the surface. He’s been doing that more since they joined Mankai, for good or for ill.

“It’s about what happened in college,” Tasuku answers, hoping that’s just cryptic enough to still get the point across.

“About what happened—About _us_?” Tsumugi blurts, caught off guard. This means he _hadn’t_ talked to Azuma, or at least if he had, Azuma didn't feel that he could give the full details. "I didn't know Azuma-san knew about that."

"He doesn't, exactly. But he..." Tasuku trails off, dragging his hand down his face.

Settsu manages to get out from beneath Tsumugi's weight at this point, getting to his feet. He runs a hand through his already tousled hair and sighs. They both look up.

“Banri-kun?”

"He's right,” Settsu says. “I probably don't wanna be here for this."

Tsumugi looks almost stricken, his shoulders sagging, mouth half-open in a protest or explanation that'll come at any second. But the younger man shakes his head—no big deal—and silences him with a lopsided smile, a reassuring peck on his forehead.

"We'll just grab coffee later, 'kay? See ya."

And with that, Settsu departs, leaving a somewhat deflated Tsumugi looking back at Tasuku.

“… Taachan, just talk to me,” he says, soft but firm; a tone that both he and Azuma are eerily good at.

Tasuku gets up off the tatami, throws himself into the couch next to Tsumugi, and starts to recount what had gone down the other day. The fact that he’d broken it off, and that Azuma seemed okay, but … the other things he’d said, about Tsumugi, about wanting a ‘two of us’. He leaves out the part about Guy and the pants.

Tsumugi doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, just taps his finger slowly against his chin. Then he starts to speak:

“Remember that summer after we turned eight? Our families went out into the country and your brother found a pretty beetle. You kept staring at it, especially when you thought no one was looking, but when Fuyuki-kun offered to let you keep it, you got mad and ran away. I think… everyone thought you were insulted, like Fuyuki-kun was saying you couldn’t have caught it yourself. But do you remember what you told me?”

He does remember. And it’s just like Tsumugi to bring up a story from so long ago to prove a point. Tasuku shakes his head.

“You said you were scared you couldn’t keep it alive as well as Fuyuki-kun could. That … it wouldn’t grow big and strong and beautiful if you kept it, because Fuyuki-kun’s older and knows more about beetles. So it was the right thing to do as a man. That’s what you said. That’s how you are with everything, Tasuku.”

“… What are you saying, that the beetle is Azuma-san? I don’t think he’d like that.”

“That’s not the point. Be quiet, okay, I’m not finished… You wouldn’t talk to Fuyuki-kun for  _ages_ , until the last day of the trip! Then he said he was going to let the beetle go, and that upset you too… So we followed him to the edge of the woods and watched him set it free. And then you cried.”

“I didn’t cry.”

“You cried really loudly, Taachan, and Fuyuki-kun put you in a headlock and gave you a noogie for not talking to him and being a baby about the beetle.”

Tasuku grumbles. It probably had happened something like that, and his brother would enthusiastically confirm it if asked to.

“The point is, you’re being stupid about Azuma-san the way you were being stupid about the beetle. You’re always getting in your own head and distancing yourself on purpose because you think you know the best thing for the person you love, but you get hurt no matter what happens. Back in university we … tried. We were a bad fit, and we figured that out, but not before we hurt each other. And we kept hurting each other.”

Tsumugi laughs, brittle and bittersweet.

“We found our way back, though. But I think there’s a better way to do it, if there’s any lesson to be learned from all this.”

Tasuku stares up at the ceiling. Tsumugi nudges him with his shoulder. The warmth is comforting—familiar—but nothing more than that. It’s been like that, he realises now, for a while.

“I did love you,” Tasuku tells him. “I never said it when we were together.”

“I know.”

“I still … You know.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see Tsumugi nod.

“I know. But it’s not the same anymore, right?” he asks.

“No. It’s not the same.”

“And Azuma-san?”

Tasuku inhales, exhales deeply, eyes closing for a moment. He hasn’t let himself miss him. There’s barely been any time to—it’s only been a few days since they last lay in bed together, and maybe only hours since they last saw each other in passing. And Azuma had seemed fine. Good, even.

There’s always a Greek chorus in the back of his mind shouting ‘Better off without you.’ He’d heard it when he left GOD-za, when he and Tsumugi had parted ways both times, and for the past few weeks, it’s been chanting in his subconscious every time he left as Azuma was sleeping.

He likes him. He had liked that beetle, too, absurd as the comparison is. Like and love are different things, and neither of them are the same as ‘deserve’.

“I don’t know,” he says, tiredly.

“Then you should figure it out,” Tsumugi says bluntly, getting up from the couch. “You owe yourself, and me, and especially Azuma-san. Don’t you think?”

“—Yeah. Thanks, Tsumu.”

“You’re welcome, Taachan.”

“Apologise to Settsu for me.”

“I probably won’t bring you up, but he’ll appreciate the thought.”

Tasuku rolls his eyes, waves his hand to the door.

“Go on, then.”

Tsumugi smiles.

“Good luck, Tasuku.”

 

Tasuku goes for a drive, alone, for self-reflection. Clarity.

Driving alone almost seems wrong, now. No chatter from the back seat, no one singing along to the radio, no one snoring in between gulps of marshmallows… No gentle laughter from beside him, a voice pointing out the flowers in the trees, the scent of expensive shampoo mixed with sea salt wafting from long silver hair when he cracks down the window and lets the wind rush through.

He hadn’t let himself miss him. It didn’t seem like he deserved to. The words swirl in his head: Like, love, deserve.

There still doesn’t seem to be an answer in all that thinking, and despite everything, he’s no good at improvisation when it’s off the stage. The place he finally stops is a place he’s been to many times before, a ways out from Veludo.

It’s quiet here, crashing waves and squawking of birds aside.

Tasuku leans back in the seat and, after working up the nerve, pulls out his phone.

**Tasuku-Takato**

I talked to Tsumugi.

**Tasuku-Takato**

I’d like to talk if you’re free.

He sends the messages and waits, tapping his hand impatiently against the dashboard until the LIME notification finally comes: 

**Azuma-san**

Let's go to the bar.

Tasuku breathes out a sigh of relief he hadn’t noticed he was holding. He makes one more call, before starting the car back up and driving back.

 

The bar Azuma means is one of their usual haunts, the site of many significant Winter Troupe gatherings, and many insignificant ones as well. It takes longer to get there than if he’d come from the dorms, but the roads are fairly empty, so he makes good time.

It’s a quiet night, just one bartender working behind the bar, chatting quietly to a regular. When they go with the others, they usually take a large table, central, close to the bar. When it’s just him and Azuma, on the occasion that they don’t just drink at home, they take ‘their’ booth in the back corner, moodily lit by cage lights with vintage bulbs.

Tasuku shucks off his jacket and sits down facing the door. He glances at his phone to see if he’d missed anything on LIME, but other than whatever Arisugawa’s going on about in the Winter chat, there’s silence. So he waits.

Azuma arrives a few minutes later, fashionably late, dressed to go out. His hair's pinned back a little more intricately than usual, and his clothes an eclectic ensemble of pieces painting him as sophisticated worldly androgyne who isn't looking to show off, but does just by being in the room. It's the sort of thing he wears when he's off meeting an old client. Tasuku knows it's all innocent, but that thought still irks him in a way Settsu’s appearance on his couch hadn’t.

Maybe it’s all a lot simpler than he’s been making it out to be.

“You wanted to talk. About Tsumugi?” Azuma’s unreadable, hands folded on the table.

“I… sort of. I’ve got a lot to say.” Tasuku wets his lips.

“That sounds like a fun change of pace,” he laughs. It’s not said in a mean way. Azuma’s always teasing, never mean.

“Yeah, well. Well.” Tasuku sighs. “I don’t know how to start.”

“Mm, start with the best part, then. Make it worth the audience’s while. —I won’t get mad, Tasuku.”

Tasuku nods. He’s right. It’s not a performance—not a traditional one, anyway. He came with things to say, misunderstandings to clarify, declarations to make.

“You think I love Tsumugi,” he begins. “That’s… oversimplifying it.”

Azuma stays silent. Tasuku takes another breath, then carries on.

“Tsumugi will always be _Tsumugi_. My best friend, the person I want to act with, to stand beside. And I’ve been holding onto him since we were kids. Since we—we were together, back in college. Even when that ended, part of me held on to the thought that he was all I wanted, even after Mankai. I just forgot to let go, because I love him.”

“—I’m not _in_ love with him. Not now. I want to be with him, as his equal, as his partner. but with you, Azuma-san…” Tasuku tightens his fists, tense, talking fast so that the embarrassment won’t catch up to him, afraid Azuma might cut him off, shut him down before he can admit it. “You’re the one I want to fall asleep beside. The one I want to wake up next to.”

And then Tasuku relaxes, just slightly, and holds out his hand.

It's the crux of the scene. He's ready for the rejection if or when it comes, researched either outcome or ‘endings', as Chigasaki would put it. He's ready, more or less, for success or failure.

And despite all of Tsumugi’s help and all the extraneous thought it generated for him, it has culminated into … just this.

 _This._ Just him and Azuma at the bar. The people in the room aren't there, aren't necessary. At that moment, Tasuku can't see anything else, just the way Azuma's hair falls over his shoulder, emphasising that tempting sliver of his collarbone.

Tasuku’s hand lingers in the air, heavy.

Azuma bites his lip.

“… The one you want to come home to,” Azuma answers at last, carefully, like he’s repeating a question. He’s not quite smiling, but not quite _not_ , either. There’s nothing in the way he says the words to give him away. Tasuku may be a little more intuitive than most when it comes to Azuma’s subtleties, but that’s failed him more than once.

And then Azuma takes his hand, with far more force than Tasuku had anticipated. Then he smiles, for real, completely unmistakeable, and threads their fingers together.

“… Is this a confession or a proposal?” Azuma’s voice is that familiar teasing lilt, gold eyes lighting up. “Tasuku, you’re so sweet. I don’t know what to say—”

“It’s not a proposal.”

“No? Then you haven’t thought it through.” He laughs softly. “Mm, that’s why you’re cute, though. _Whose_ bed do you want to wake up in?”

Azuma is smirking now, and he's projecting confidence and ease… but their fingers are still intertwined and Tasuku can feel them trembling. He sighs. The best thing to do here is to carry on past the deflection. Azuma needs a little push sometimes to lower his defences, to remind him that he doesn't _need_ to be guarded anymore.

He smooths his thumb down the side of Azuma’s hand.

“It doesn’t matter whose bed,” Tasuku replies. “… I thought maybe we could talk about it on the drive.”

Azuma tilts his head. “We’re going on a drive?”

“To the beach. I thought we could go out there, rent a beach house or something for the night. —If you’re okay with that, Azuma-san.”

There _was_ a plan to all this, to Tasuku's credit, hastily put-together as it was. Tsumugi laughed when he told him on the phone. Something about driving people to the beach being Tasuku's ‘signature move'. Tasuku didn't get why it was funny. Arisugawa guffawed in the background, and Mikage had leaned into Tsumugi’s mic just to say, “It’s always the beach.”

 _Everyone_ likes the beach. Tasuku is pretty sure on that point. Nobody’s ever _complained_ about the beach.

And all this disgruntled musing about the beach makes Tasuku realise, with some delay, that Azuma’s taking an unusually long time to respond.

“Azuma-san?” Tasuku prompts, frowning. “… Did I get too far ahead of myself?”

“—No, that sounds… That sounds nice.” His voice still sounds smaller than usual, distant.

Then without warning, Azuma closes the distance between their bodies, his face nestled in the crook where Tasuku’s neck meets his shoulder. Instinctively, Tasuku moves to hold him, the way he’d held him that first night—but Azuma’s still holding his hand, and he brings them up against his chest.

There they are, fingers intertwined, held tight between their bodies. Somehow this action alone feels more intimate and intense than anything that’s come before.

After a few seconds, he realises that Azuma's crying. It's not dramatic, it's not a sob—the man is too dignified for that—but there are tears and the slightest tremor in his shoulders. Tasuku says nothing.

A moment later, Azuma lifts his head, shifting their hands to lay in his lap. He’s smiling and the tears are still drying on his cheeks but he looks no less elegant and beautiful for all that.

“You’re the kindest, silliest, clumsiest person I’ve ever known,” he says, sounding exasperated.

“I know I’ve done everything out of order.”

“Mm, for example, you haven’t asked how it is I feel about _you_ , Tasuku.”

It’s that feeling again, the gut punch, the ice water over his head. He’d taken it for granted somehow that Azuma wanted him, created a scenario where his happily ever after was the same as Azuma’s.

“Oh.”

“Aren’t you going to ask?” Azuma asks, gently, poking right between Tasuku’s eyes so he’s forced to unfurrow his brow a little. He’s still kind of unsure, but he nods.

It’s hard not to go back to a role, especially in complicated situations like this. He’s Kouta—but not begging Reo to stay. He’s just hoping Azuma will give him a chance to prove he won’t leave. He doesn’t have the benefit of Minagi’s carefully written dialogue here, just his own clumsy words.

But Azuma likes his clumsiness, supposedly.

“… What about you, Azuma-san? How do you feel about me?”

And without a word, Azuma takes his face with both hands, leaning up to press their mouths together in a kiss, so close Tasuku can feel the tears on the older man’s cheek transfer to his own. It’s a gentle kiss that nevertheless burns with quiet desperation. When one of them (Azuma, of course, leading) breaks the kiss, painfully slow, neither drawing back fully.

“You coming home to me,” Azuma begins, softly, an echo of what he’d said before. “I quite like that idea. You waiting for me at home—I like the sound of that, too.”

It's hard to describe the wave of emotions that come over Tasuku at these words. The first is the relief, like sweat trickling down the back of his neck, a release of tension from his muscles, finding that first deep breath of air after that punch to the gut. He's bad with metaphors, despite reading so many, but it's stepping in from the cold, a homecoming.

He initiates the kiss this time, urgent, grateful, relieved. Azuma laughs against his mouth. Tasuku lets him and just kisses him harder. It feels… right. Natural. Good.

“Tasuku,” Azuma murmurs after they break apart.

“What’s wrong?”

“… Shall we get out of here? I can think of a few things I want to do that we shouldn’t do here.”

Tasuku coughs, surprised.

“Let’s go on that drive?”

“Take me to the beach, Tasuku,” Azuma grins, and in that moment his eyes are so bright, his smile so brilliant, that Tasuku thinks his heart might explode.

He gets out of his seat and offers his hand, which Azuma takes. They talk quietly on the way to the car, and it’s a beautiful drive out to the beach.

 

It’s short notice, but they find a small room with a decent view. Azuma lies there, leaning his cheek on his hand, watching the moon above the ocean, practically glowing in the moonlight. Tasuku can’t help but run his fingers through the long silver hair, impossibly soft. He’d told Azuma, back then, that he liked his hair long. He hadn’t realised until now just how much he likes it.

He places a kiss to the small of Azuma’s back, right where that sweep of silver hair ends. Azuma startles just a little, but Tasuku looks back, half-smiling in a way that he hopes doesn’t look ridiculous.

They stay a while like that, just watching the moon, basking in each other’s company.

 

In the morning, they drive back to Veludo Way, back to the Mankai dorms.

They’d said, in lieu of confessions, things like “You're the one I want to come home to,” and “I want you to be the one who waits for me to come home,” but they left one out; the person they want to come home _with_.

“I’m home,” Tasuku announces to the empty entrance. Azuma leans against his arm, laughing.

“We’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's it! i ... originally wanted there to be an E-rated scene somewhere in there but it didn't mesh with the flow/mood of the piece, so it's conspicuously (or not so conspicuously) missing. i might write an epilogue/side piece to remedy that if anyone wants it. the banri/tsumugi resolution, too. so please let me know!
> 
> thank you all so much for your lovely comments and patience and just giving this pairing and fic a chance. tasuazu is good actually.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on twitter [@veludoway](https://twitter.com/veludoway)
> 
> i made a playlist while writing this that's just [sad lady songs, azuma pov](https://open.spotify.com/user/1224320720/playlist/57wairLSFbFswLOgrJd9y2?si=rVMkQ1P2Qra-CqboLd-ItA)


End file.
